Restless
by JustBFree
Summary: Pyro and his life post X2
1. Default Chapter

In the Plaza de Amour, nestled between a sex shop and a shoe boutique, there was a coffee shop. Not offering the bizarre combinations to its customers that could be found in every other Starbucks, this particular coffee shop was smaller, quieter, and more intimate.  
  
That's the way she liked it.  
  
A girl seemingly on the brink of womanhood sat alone at a table, patiently sipping vanilla espresso. Bright green eyes scanned the area, she didn't want to miss him. Sitting out there in the sunshine, enjoying the breeze behind her jet black sunglasses made her feel good. Sexy and powerful. She felt like a huntress, and she watched as her prey strode from one corner to the next across the street.  
  
She had been watching him for months. Every day, he would come around the corner of Lennox, walk up the block and turn onto Buckingham. He would be gone, returning the next day to do the same. He was like clockwork, as predictable as the sunrise.  
  
She left a tip on the table and grabbed her backpack. The young man she had been so steadily observing had come around the corner of Lennox at the top of the block, and had almost passed the coffee shop across the street.  
  
She glanced at her reflection in a store window and ran a hand through her strawberry-blonde locks, attempting to establish some kind of order. She quickly crossed the street and was now walking about twenty feet behind him.  
  
He was wearing a denim jacket over his t-shirt, and corduroy pants. He had this cool, almost odd look to him. He was casual, but elegant, he looked sort of rebellious, but collected at the same time.  
  
The girl was transfixed, made even more nervous now that she was so close, but determined to get what she wanted. The boys at high school were easy to charm, but approaching a stranger on the street was a whole different ball game. He could be a psycho, for all she knew.  
  
Her oblivious quarry turned the corner, and she got fed up with her own timidness, and ran to catch up, screwing up her nerve to talk to this guy.  
  
"Excuse me, excuse me, hi!" she called after him.  
  
He stopped and turned to her, looking at her face to face for the first time.  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
She smiled and walked closer, letting him look her up and down as she had done to him. A breeze blew the hair out of her face and she felt her confidence return full force.  
  
"Oh no, I'm fine. Just wondering something, though." This part would be corny, and there was a huge chance he'd just laugh at her and go on his way, but it had worked well enough in the drill...  
  
"Yeah?" he asked.  
  
"Well, let me start off by saying that my name is Brianna. I've seen you walk by the coffee shop almost every day, and I know you've seen me, so why haven't you stopped by to say hello?"  
  
There was silence for a long stretch, but then he moved forward and put out his hand. She shook it.  
  
"Hello, Brianna. I'm John."  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
Eric and Mystique were great, no one who had lived with them for as long as John had could ever deny that. They provided everything he needed, gave him respect and attention-best of all, they didn't treat him like some tagalong kindergartener.  
  
But as much as he liked them, he found himself to be becoming restless. Not that he was ungrateful or anything, but he often felt the need to distance himself from his saviors and mentors.  
  
He would spend hours doing who knew what in the city, then come back home and realize that he had spent the whole day searching for something, but he didn't know what it was.  
  
He was lonely, and it was making him miserable.  
  
It was during one of these as yet fruitless searches that he was approached by a girl. And what a girl she was; bright green eyes, pale smooth skin, strawberry blonde hair.  
  
She was pretty and looked about his age, and as they spent the rest of the day together, John felt his restlessness fade.  
  
He had found what he was looking for.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
"This was a great day, you want to hang out tomorrow?" Brianna asked John as they neared her apartment building.  
  
'She wants to hang out again tomorrow? Great!' were his first thoughts, and he smiled.  
  
"Yeah, sure. What time?"  
  
"I was thinking maybe at about eight or so, is that good with you?"  
  
'Yes!'  
  
"That's perfect, I'll see you then."  
  
Brianna and John parted ways on the street with a wave, and she went into the building. The halls were dingy, and the floorboards creaked so loud she could rarely get any sleep, but it didn't matter anymore. After tomorrow, her task would be over, and she'd be long gone.  
  
She set down her backpack and made a call. Her voice made a dramatic shift from the carefree lightheartedness of a teenager and instantly became harsher, more commanding.  
  
"It's him. Be ready tomorrow night around 8:30."  
  
She hung up and flopped down on the couch, her hard eyes sweeping over the file reports spread across the coffee table. Several images were taken from the late Stryker's database, of the mutants and machines hidden at Xavier's.  
  
In the center, three photos were arranged. Two of Magneto, one while he was attacking the NYPD outside of a train station, the other taken during his short stay in the custom designed prison.  
  
The third photo was of Xavier's missing student, John Allerdyce.  
  
So. John had taken to roaming the streets of New York when he wasn't attacking police officers.  
  
Well, that would change in less than 24 hours. 


	2. 2

"It's kind of cute, you know? John going on a date, it's the first I've ever seen him go on, what about you Eric?" Mystique asked from their bed. She had lain down on her stomach and was idly flipping through the TV channels.  
  
Eric came back into their room, shrugging on a robe. "I've only see him look, he may have had some attachment at the school, but I doubt it was anything seri-"  
  
Eric stopped once he saw the news channel Mystique had stopped on. A news anchor was out on the street, in front of a coffee shop. Behind her, firefighters scrambled to save what was left of the building.  
  
"...are shocked after seeing what could only be described as 'flame with a mind of its own'. Nearby resident Susanne Harker caught footage of the phenomenon..."  
  
The couple watched as the tape footage began to roll: a man lit a cigarette, and from the tiny cylinder, a swirling tornado of fire leapt into the air, catching several people in its path.  
  
Eric frowned deeply as Mystique quickly dialed the number to John's cell phone. There was no plausible explanation she could come up with as to why John would do such a thing.  
  
Eric knew him well enough, and this wasn't like him. John had said himself that he doesn't use his power to attack unless someone else had struck first...  
  
"I'm not getting any answer, Eric." Mystique told him.  
  
Eric's frown deepened. "No, I expect you wouldn't. Let's go."  
  
Mystique didn't have to ask where.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
Eric had changed back into his day clothes, while Mystique had changed her form to look like a middle aged woman in a black pantsuit. They left the building in search of the fire sighting.  
  
The location was crawling with people. Firefighters, police officers and of course, the press. Mystique was able to extract some delicate information by disguising herself as an officer.  
  
"Eric," she said, as she returned to her natural form beside him in the passenger seat of his Mercedes, "Some officer said that they had been tipped off to be extra careful tonight, orders from way up the ladder. They were bringing down a dangerous mutant. It was a trap, the date, the ambush, all of it."  
  
Eric sat silent beside her for a moment, considering this. "Is that all?"  
  
"No, before he was overpowered, John hurt one of them, nearly burned the meat off his burns, Eric. He might know where John's been taken."  
  
Eric's brows knitted together. "Well, perhaps we should pay a visit."  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
The drills, the classes and the millions of lectures couldn't have prepared him for his fate. He lay there, on a hospital bed plugged into five different life supporting, medicine dripping machines, thinking things over.  
  
He could've gotten out of the way. He could've jumped. He could've ducked.  
  
He could've stopped, dropped and rolled, for God's sake!  
  
But did he?!  
  
No, no he hadn't. He'd been too entranced by the fiery tornado to think straight. Because of his idiocy, he couldn't even close his eyes—his eyelids had melted into the rest of the skin on his face.  
  
He looked like an overcooked sausage. All the hair on his body had been singed off, his skin scorched black and red. He was thankful that his body was in shock, he wouldn't feel any pain until a few days later.  
  
That is, if he lived long enough, which he probably won't. He'd probably not last until the morning.  
  
He knew all that, and wished that they hadn't injected the kid so soon; the chloroform put him to sleep, making the mutant lose his concentration on the flame, putting it out instantly. If they had just held off a little longer, the fire would have killed him right there on the streets.  
  
So, there he lay. A man, a soldier, a husband, a son and a father. His life cut short because he followed that psycho into a battle against something bigger than any of them, and here was his reward: burned to death by some punk teenage mutant.  
  
He looked over to the door. Two doctors had just come into his room. One closed the door and stayed close to the entrance of the room, the other approached his bed. He couldn't see very clearly, one of his eyes had been seared shut; the one remaining was blurry at best.  
  
"Martin Ramirez?" the doctor asked.  
  
Marin could barely move, but he could talk a little. "Yes."  
  
His voice was raspy, even his tongue had been burned.  
  
"Of Phoenix, Arizona?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The doctor settled into a chair beside the bed.  
  
"Well, Marin, of Phoenix, Arizona. Let me tell you a little about myself. My name is Eric Lehnsherr, and I'm sure that that name is quite familiar, am I right?"  
  
Martin was silent, but Eric saw his good eye widen slightly in surprise.  
  
"I'll take that as another 'yes'. Now, if you would like to see tomorrow, tell me where they took the mutant."  
  
Martin gave a heavy inward scream of anger at the man before him. If he hadn't be in the position he was, he would have jumped up and punched Magneto. He couldn't move, he was beyond helpless.  
  
No, not helpless. Magneto wouldn't have come here if he didn't need to. Martin still had some power.  
  
"I don't care if you kill me. After what the fire mutant did to me, I'll be dead soon anyway."  
  
"That's true, you will be, but the 'fire mutant'-as you call him- never reached your family. Your wife, Laura and little daughter Alison are still safe. But I can change that; you've read the reports and files on me, haven't you? You know I can do this damage to them--and more, if you don't start talking. Tell me where they took the mutant, tell me where they've taken John."  
  
Martin sighed. How could this man know such things about him? How did he know about Laura and Alison? Martin knew he would die soon, and since the moment he felt the flames touch him, he'd been praying that his family be kept safe.  
  
He could no longer protect them, if he held out on Magneto, they'd die an unspeakable death.  
  
Martin had seen what Magneto had done to his prison guard.  
  
Was he willing to keep the mission secret at the risk of his wife and daughter?  
  
"I'm not sure exactly what they want him for, but the operation headquarters is in Washington."  
  
Eric glanced back at Mystique, who had chosen to remain by the door to the room. She smiled at him in the doctor's face.  
  
"What's the organization's name?" Eric asked.  
  
Martin coughed, then told him, "The Friends of Humanity."  
  
Eric's body stiffened at the name. He carefully looked back at Mystique;. her face stayed blank but her eyes glared at Ramirez.  
  
"It's a cover for something bigger, but I wasn't high enough up in the ranks to be told much more." Martin said, slurring his words a little as his medication began to kick in.  
  
Eric sighed a little and stood. "The medicine is taking hold, he won't be of much more use to us now. I'll meet you outside, we need a plan." He said as he removed the stolen lab coat.  
  
Eric carelessly tossed the lab coat over Martin Ramirez's blistered face and went to the window. He opened the latch and looked outside. He hated hospitals and felt he had to get out of the room as soon as possible.  
  
Eric took to the air, graceful and silent as an owl.  
  
Mystique stood by the door, watching as he flew away. She turned to leave herself, but paused with her hand on the doorknob.  
  
She looked back to the bed that held the terribly injured, but very much alive, Martin Ramirez.  
  
She locked the door then, and approached the bed, a wicked smile on her face.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
John woke up slowly, painfully. He had taken plenty of punishment during the ambush in front of the coffee shop. He had a splitting headache, but he realized what had happened.  
  
It had started off so well, they were laughing and getting along great.  
  
"Hey, John, you want to get some coffee?" Brianna had asked.  
  
"Sure," he had said, so enthusiastic just to be around this pretty new girl.  
  
They had gone to the coffee shop he passed nearly everyday, and right after they finished their drinks and were getting ready to leave for a movie, a bunch of guys jumped out of nowhere!  
  
There must have been seven on him, with several armed around the perimeter. He couldn't see what had happened to Brianna, he didn't understand what was happening until it was too late.  
  
He saw someone with a cigarette and called on his power to force the tiny spark to become a horrifying tornado of flame. He'd only hoped to use it to scare off their assailants, but they wouldn't run, so he focused the fire on one of them.  
  
"That's enough, use this!" he heard someone close yell.  
  
He felt a cloth cover his mouth and nostrils. His last thought, before he slipped under the chloroform's chemical spell, was how much the voice sounded like Brianna's.  
  
He realized now, of course, that the date had been a set up.  
  
The light hurt his eyes, but he ignored the pain to take a look around. He was on a floor, a concrete floor. He was in a room, three of the walls were made of cinderblocks, the front wall made of thick glass.  
  
There was a metal framed bed at his right, a sink and toilet with a privacy curtain to his left.  
  
John leaned on the bed for balance as he stood up. His head was splitting, and his neck didn't feel much better, in fact...  
  
He put a hand to the back of his neck and felt a large lump, the skin very tender.  
  
"What the Hell...?"  
  
"I wouldn't touch that too much if I were you."  
  
John turned and went up to the glass wall. He looked across the hall and saw that there were more rooms lined up and down this very long hallway. Almost like prison cells, never a good sign, he thought to himself.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"You must've put up quite a fight, kid. They don't usually rough up the new ones until they're actually under control."  
  
John followed the sound to the cell directly across from his, but couldn't see much. "What?"  
  
"I said that you must have given them Hell. Good for you for trying, but it didn't do you much good now, did it?" The one who had been speaking stepped up to the glass of his own cell.  
  
It was a young man, maybe a year or two shy of 25, by John's guess. He was black and wore a dark green wife beater tank top, dark brown pants. "Who are you?" John asked.  
  
The man shrugged and smiled kind of sadly. "I had a name, a real name, not the kind of name they'll give you here. But that doesn't matter, because they made me forget it. They call me Rush now. Where'd they grab you?" he asked.  
  
"I don't...where are we?" John demanded.  
  
"Don't know, doesn't matter. We can't get out—don't bother trying unless you want a bullet through your head. And that's if you're lucky." Rush said, raising his eyebrows almost amusedly.  
  
Almost.  
  
"Why are we here?"  
  
Rush shrugged and stepped back into the shadows of his cell, slowly fading out of sight. "The same reason we have nowhere else to go. We're mutants." 


	3. 3

John sat down on the bed and tried to think about what Rush had just told him. He had purposely been taken here, to what he assumed was some secret jail for mutants. He doubted that they—whoever 'they' were—would let him call Magneto and Mystique for help.  
  
He got up from the bed and looked at himself in the mirror.  
  
"Jesus," he muttered at his reflection. His lip was swollen, there was a cut on his cheek and he could make out the faint ring of bruising around his eye. Just by moving around, he knew without looking that the damage wasn't restricted to his face.  
  
"Got us a new one, eh, Rush?" it was a female voice that rang out this time, clear through the space.  
  
"He's new, too new. Clueless." Rush said from his bed.  
  
"Come closer to the glass, let me get a good look at you," she called out.  
  
John stepped forward, and could now see her as well as she could see him.  
  
She had dark hair and eyes, but very pale skin. Similar to Rush, she was wearing a dark green tank top and a pair of dark pants. She looked a touch older than Rush, maybe 25, and looked curiously at John.  
  
"That makes about four new ones this year. They're getting faster."  
  
"Hey, what are they planning to do to us?" John asked, his tension building.  
  
"Well, that depends."  
  
"On what?"  
  
"On the mutation, how useful you can become. They might not do anything, but that's never happened in as long as I've been here." She said, her dark eyes shining with some bizarre light.  
  
"And how long is that?"  
  
"It's been years, but exact numbers don't matter. Don't worry too much about it though, the object here isn't to kill us—that comes later, after the mission is over and they won't need us anymore. I suggest that you get some rest, you have a busy day ahead of you. Meeting the rest of us, getting acquainted with the bosses, and your evaluation."  
  
The young woman, whoever she was, was starting to give John the creeps. She spoke with an almost sing-song rhythm to her words, her eyes staring at him without blinking; it may have been at that moment that John realized that being here so long might have driven her a little nuts.  
  
Maybe Rush too, since he had forgotten his own name and all.  
  
Still, he pressed on, it was smart to find out as much as he could about the situation he had gotten into.  
  
"What's going to happen to us?"  
  
"Us? Nothing. You, on the other hand, have something to look forward to tomorrow at your evaluation."  
  
"What happens at evaluation?"  
  
"I can't say for sure, it's been so long since I had mine; but I'm willing to bet it was different than yours is going to be. I remember only a few things: a door, a drill, a table...that's about it. They brought me back to my room and I've had these ever since."  
  
She held out her hands to reveal her wrists to him, but all John could see were circular apertures in her skin, about the size of a quarter.  
  
He shook his head, "Listen, this has been a really weird day for me, ok? One minute I'm on a date, the next I'm in jail. Just tell me what they want from me!" He demanded, his patience running out.  
  
"Well, since you asked so nice," she said, sarcasm invading her voice, "That bulge in your neck isn't going to just heal and go away. It's insurance to protect the guys who caught us. You try to attack them and you can say hello to your very first aneurism. Their mission is to force us to help them depose mutant power in America, and as for your evaluation tomorrow...you'll be a new man, that I can guarantee."  
  
With that statement, the girl's eyes flickered a little, losing some of their spitfire personality.  
  
The lights in the hall and in every cell dimmed, then went out.  
  
"Welcome to Weapon X." the girl hissed at him from the dark.  
  
John shuddered.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
"Colonel Wraith, sir."  
  
"Yes, Sergeant Vega?" "The med divisions are standing by for your orders regarding the newest acquisition, sir. He'd never survive a cybernetic graft, but several other options are available."  
  
"The fire-mutant, yes. Put one of our best in ICU. Ramirez was a good soldier. Cybernetics may not be right for his mutation category, but he'll still get an upgrade, whether he wants it or not. Tell the med-unit to prep the OR."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
John had laid down on the bed, trying to make sense of what Rush and the girl across the cell had told him. Nothing made much sense, especially the evaluation tomorrow.  
  
When he came back to the cell, would he have holes in his wrists too?  
  
The lights had come back on in the hall and the cells, John had not gone to sleep. He had stayed up all night, thinking up ways to get out. He hadn't had much luck, as he didn't know what he was up against or where he was.  
  
He saw shadows moving on the floor and could hear some footsteps outside his cell. John stood up and saw several soldiers approach his cell.  
  
"Hey, I don't know what-AGGHHH!!!"  
  
John felt a stinging, burning pain rip through his head, so powerful he fell to his knees.  
  
"Get him," said one of the soldiers, "Take him to the OR."  
  
John put up a half-hearted struggle against the five burly soldiers that grabbed him and hauled him down the hall, but he was weakened from his wounds. John saw that Rush and the girl, and several other mutants in their own cells were watching as he was dragged down the hall.  
  
Cell after cell, all of them were identical- the occupant inside dressed in the same dark green tank top and brown pants, looking at him with the same sad eyes. They had no hope, and John was beginning to feel the same way.  
  
The soldiers forced John down the hall and into a room. The stinging smell of antiseptics clung to the room. Doctors dressed in their lab coats and latex gloves waited for the soldiers to force John onto the table.  
  
"Hold him still," said the doctor closest to John's head.  
  
He felt strong arms force his shoulders into the metal surface. John looked to his right and saw the same doctor fill a syringe with an amber liquid, and walk towards him.  
  
"No!" 


	4. 4

The world was spinning when John woke up; he was dizzy, but no longer in pain. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light in his cell.  
  
"Ungh." He groaned slightly as he rolled over.  
  
John looked down at himself to see that he too had been newly attired in the dark brown pants and dark green tank top that seemed to be the norm around here, at least for the mutant prisoners. As for the soldiers, they all wore fatigues...  
  
The soldiers.  
  
The lab.  
  
The needle.  
  
He quickly got up off the bed, then had to stand still to clear his head of the horrible dizziness he felt before moving forward to the mirror above the sink on the other side of his tiny, dank cell.  
  
John rested his hands on either side of the sink, leaning on it for support. He was beginning to think that he should have waited before moving around, he was already nauseous.  
  
"Hey, what the Hell?" he demanded of his reflection.  
  
It was probably just his imagination, but he could've sworn that his eyes had had a slightly orange cast to them, but dismissed it. He looked closely at his eyes-they were their normal hazel color now.  
  
He wished he could say the same about his hair, though. It was still dark brown for the most part, but it looked like someone took the liberty of dying his hair with bright streaks of gold while he was asleep.  
  
"Man, what the Hell kind of place is this?!" He yelled out loud.  
  
John punched the mirror, cutting his knuckles on its cracked surface.  
  
Suddenly, bright orange flames bloomed up the length of his hand, from the wrist to his fingertips.  
  
"What the...?"  
  
John was a pyrotic, he could control flames with his mind, but only from an outside source; he could not create his own fire...at least not before he was taken here.  
  
Now, the flame plumed from his hand like a torch and he had no idea how it was possible. He tried to remember what had happened earlier, but he came up empty. The only clear image in his mind's eye was a needle.  
  
John shuddered. What had been in that syringe?  
  
"Amazing, isn't it?" he heard the girl's voice across the hall.  
  
He went to the glass front wall of his cell. She was there, leaning against the metal frame of her bed, she wasn't alarmed, she didn't even seem that worried.  
  
'She's seen this before,' he realized.  
  
"What?"  
  
The girl shrugged, jutting her chin down the hall, in the direction he had been taken. "Your nifty new powers, only took them two hours of injections to get what they wanted out of you."  
  
John touched the small bandage on his neck, remembering the needle.  
  
The girl continued. "You can make fire, that's sure to be an eye-opener. I'm sure you'll be a favorite on CNN."  
  
"I don't want to be rude, but what the Hell are you talking about?!" John demanded.  
  
The girl's eyes remained calm.  
  
"You weren't briefed? I guess things have changed since I was first taken here. They would at least let us know why we were chosen to be their new guinea pigs, their new...scapegoats," she hissed bitter words into the hall, almost talking to herself.  
  
Her large dark eyes shifted back to John, remembering she had a question to answer. "We're here to show the public just how dangerous we mutants are. We're here to attack people, killing on occasion, they'll force us to do it—it doesn't matter how hard you resist. You'll either do what they force you to do, or you'll die. It's that simple."  
  
"I don't want to hurt anyone," John said quietly.  
  
"That doesn't matter. Seeing as how they already took care of you," she wiggled her fingers at him, indicating the flames he had made only moments before, "I suspect they need you for a mission. Rush and I were already assigned to one next week. You'll probably be with us. Have you ever seen Washington D.C.?"  
  
John shook his head 'no'.  
  
The girl smiled bitterly, "Bring a camera, once we're through, it'll be changed forever."  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* (8 days later)  
  
"AAAGGGGHHH!!!" John screamed as he was jolted awake by the pain in his neck. The cell was still dark, but he could see well enough to know that several soldiers were in the tiny room with him.  
  
He was hauled out of bed and hustled into the hallway, shoved and dragged down the long corridor, and forced into an enormous room, so large and spacious that it rivaled most air hangers.  
  
A soldier chained his wrists behind him, like handcuffs. "Get moving," he was told, so John walked forward, fearing another painful pulse from the bulging implant at the back of his neck.  
  
"Hey, kid. Having fun yet?"  
  
John looked up; Rush was about 20 ft. to his left, his wrists cuffed with several soldiers on either side of him. "Yeah, jolly." John snapped.  
  
A large, inconspicuous utility van pulled up outside, and John considered flaming the soldiers and making off with it, but the implant pulsed slightly—not as powerful as before, only a reminder of his near helpless situation.  
  
"I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no. There's no way you'd get out of here alive. You may have had your powers advanced, but we still hold the off switch." The soldier shoved John forward. "Get on the truck, now."  
  
John followed Rush into the back of the van and found the girl to be inside already, seemingly waiting for them. "Hello boys." She said half heartedly.  
  
"Hey Jess," Rush said, "What's the job this time?"  
  
Jess—no longer a just nameless source of riddles and irritation to John—shrugged. "Nothing huge, for our part. We take down the gathering, but Wraith wants John to have some serious coverage."  
  
"Show them some fireworks, huh?"  
  
"Wraith sent Vega to chaperone this mission."  
  
"Vega?!"  
  
"Yes. This one isn't just for show—it's for real this time, and Wraith wants John to take down the whole building, nevermind the damages."  
  
"Whoa," Rush said.  
  
John would have asked what Jess meant by taking down a building and going to a gathering, but he decided that it didn't matter. He was trapped in a military compound, only one of over a hundred mutants that—he assumed—had been captured, somehow changed, and forced to use their powers.  
  
He didn't care what this mission was about, all he cared about now was getting home-by any means necessary. 


	5. 5

The van drove for a long time, John didn't know how long exactly, he didn't have a watch and there were no windows in the back. Rush sat beside him, his eyes closed but he wasn't asleep. Jess sat across from him, her hands were free, unlike John and Rush, whose wrists had been cuffed like two criminals.  
  
John didn't bother to ask her about what she knew the soldiers had in store for him today. He didn't want to know the details, but from what she had said, he could surmise that they would force him to hurt some people with his new ability to create fire.  
  
He didn't want that. John had never just attacked people for no reason, at least not with any sort of deadly force. The kid in the museum was just funny, it wasn't like he was going to let him burn up in the middle of the food court! He would've put out the flames himself, but Bobby had to get into the fight and interrupt everything. Now, the cops were a different story, they had shot Logan, John actually thought he was dead, he hadn't known about his healing factor.  
  
Eye for an eye, so he attacked the cops, but only because they attacked first. It was self defense, he was protecting himself and his friends.  
  
He had brought it up to Magneto once.  
  
Eric was demonstrating--showing off, really-- how he could warp the magnetic field of the earth itself. Bend the force of the entire planet, create worldwide destruction and chaos. Compared to what Eric could do with the twitch of an eyebrow, John's show back in Boston was nothing.  
  
"If you're so powerful, why not just take the world by force? Separate the humans from the mutants and attack." He had asked out of genuine curiosity.  
  
"Because, there are several thousand humans who possess latent mutant genes. Any human could be a potential mutant."  
  
John didn't want to hurt anyone innocent, human or mutant; he just wanted to get away from the prison as soon as he could. He had never killed before, but if forced to fight for his life, he'd torch everything in his way.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
Since the organization began, the assemblies were always large, at least 300 people, and there were always at least a dozen new faces in each meeting. Today, however, two of the new faces wanted nothing to do with the organization's primary focus.  
  
An older, distinguished man in a black business suit stood beside a younger man dressed in similar navy-colored attire.  
  
"I'm not sure which one of them would know where he is," said the younger man.  
  
"Then you may have to take several shapes tonight, but don't stop until you know where they've taken him," Replied the other man. "If one of them heard even a vague mention of his whereabouts at the office water cooler, I want to know about it." His voice was hard, barely containing rage, phantom electricity crackled in the large room, a result of his stress.  
  
The young man sighed quietly, "I'm worried about him too."  
  
"...The very building we are in right now houses several pro-mutant offices, most specifically the enrollment offices for special mutant educational facilities..." began the speaker.  
  
The crowd booed and hissed, Mystique gave an inward groan. The Friends of Humanity had rented out the assembly hall as a direct slap in the face towards the pro-mutant offices in the rest of the building. She felt nauseous being in the same room with so much hate, but she'd stay there for a year if it would bring John back.  
  
Eric had taken them from New York City all the way here to Washington D.C. to find information about the Friends of Humanity. They had taken John, they were determined to get him back-no matter what the cost.  
  
Ramirez had not lied to them, thankfully, but he had done them no favors by omitting names and locations. If Mystique hadn't killed him already, she would go back to that hospital room and beat it out of him.  
  
But there was no time for that now.  
  
She and Eric were towards the front of the assembly hall, closer to the exit that faced the street . The speaker was towards the back of the room, deeper inside the building.  
  
Mystique listened to the speaker go on and go for what seemed like hours as he ran through the list of reason mutants were dangerous and couldn't be trusted, blah-blah-blah.  
  
She rolled her eyes in the disguise of the young man, trying to tune out how enthusiastic the audience was at the idea of 'never having to live in fear of mutants again'.  
  
If only that fool knew what he was dealing with.  
  
Mystique looked outside, out into the street. "What the Hell...Eric, look out there, is that...?"  
  
Eric turned beside her to see what she was pointing to. Out across the street, a utility van (flanked by military trucks) had parked, and soldiers were now ushering people out of the back.  
  
A pale young woman.  
  
A young black man.  
  
Another young man that was startlingly familiar.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
The van slowed to a halt, John could feel the gear shift into 'park'. He could hear city noises of talking people, car horns, and music. He heard several sets of footsteps come up to the back of the van.  
  
The double doors were opened; the first rays of sunlight John had seen in weeks poured in and stung his eyes. "Come on, get out." A soldier commanded.  
  
Jess jumped out of the van, and stood beside two of the soldiers. Rush climbed out slower because of his chained hands. John emerged last.  
  
The three of them lined up and one soldier, Vega, walked back and forth in front of them. "Two of you have done this before, several times. You," he put a hand on Rush's shoulder, "clear any civilians and traffic. You," he said, meaning Jess, "take down anyone who tries to be a hero, and keep an eye out for the new one. You," finally, he turned to John, "Torch this building; I don't care what it takes."  
  
John said nothing, which Vega took to mean obedience.  
  
The soldiers parted, letting the trio go to work. They walked across the street, and John felt a tingle in the air. Rush had a hand to his temple, his eyes were closed again.  
  
"What's he doing?" John asked Jess.  
  
"He's a telekinetic. He just made a few roadblocks for this afternoon's traffic, couldn't do our jobs very well if we're road-kill, right?" Jess winked at him.  
  
John didn't answer. He ran.  
  
"John, don't-"Rush tried to warn him, but after four steps, John was taken down.  
  
"AAAGGGGHHHH!!!"  
  
The bulge in the back of his neck sent him into the pavement, shaking from the pain. Stinging electric pulses coursed through his whole body, ripping him apart. He crawled forward, still trying to escape, the pulse only came harder.  
  
He staggered there in the middle of the street, on hands and knees, growling and hissing at the invisible attacker. "Oh God, stop..." he moaned out loud.  
  
"John, get up. They'll stop if you just get up and do this thing." Rush said as he pulled John to his feet.  
  
"I can't...aaagghh!"  
  
The implant pulsed again, sharply. "You have to," Rush insisted.  
  
John moved a few steps forward on his own, Rush backed away, out of the reach of John's flames. He looked at his hands, willing the flames into being. It was slow, he was still unsure exactly how to control this new power.  
  
The implant pulsed again, hard, urging him to hurry.  
  
Sweat broke out on his skin, John's knees buckled, leaving him kneeling in the street, a five story building of innocents before him.  
  
"John?" He looked up.  
  
It was Eric! Eric, come to rescue him! Eric, here to take him home!  
  
"Eric, you've gotta help-aaaggghhh!" the implant pulsed again.  
  
John kneeled before Eric, tears of pain and anger coursing down his face, he clutched his head in his hands.  
  
"John, what's happening to you? Why are you doing this?" Eric kneeled down to him and put his hands over John's shoulders, trying to steady him.  
  
John saw Jess walked behind Eric, she was only about 20 feet away from them. Eric couldn't see her. John didn't know what her power was, she could kill Eric and John would be stuck in the military prison for the rest of his life.  
  
He had to get Eric away, to save him, so he could in turn save John.  
  
"Eric, get away."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, get back, now!" he yelled at him.  
  
Flames erupted from John, sending Eric stumbling backward to avoid the flash furnace of heat that John had become. Fire covered him, but John felt no pain from the heat, only a powerful element pulling to get free. He struggled to control it, it was so powerful.  
  
"John, what are you-"  
  
Jess had just unleashed her power. From the aperture on the underside of her wrist, a thin tentacle-like extension burst forth and wrapped around Eric's forearm. John had a split second to see the confused look on Eric's face before Jess twisted, lifting him into the air and threw him through a window of the building that lead back into the assembly hall.  
  
John saw him disappear into the crowd inside and could only stare in shock at Jess. The tentacles were thin, perhaps the same thickness as a roll of quarters. The metal extensions were long, and John was willing to bet made of adamantium. She flexed her arms and they whipped forward, cutting through the metal of a nearby car, slicing it clean in half.  
  
The implant pulsed again, reminding John to get back to work.  
  
He could see the faces look down at him from windows above. John stood there in the street, flames somehow erupting from his body. He stressed his natural gift to its limit, trying to restrain the hungry fire, but he could barely fight it on his own, and the stinging pulses interrupted his concentration.  
  
The fire leapt from him, flooded the lobby of the building. Naturally, the anti-mutant assembly ran out the fire exits. He couldn't see Eric, but he assumed that Mystique was nearby in disguise; hopefully they could get out in time.  
  
As powerful as they were, both Eric and Mystique were just as susceptible to flame as the next human.  
  
The fire ate the assembly hall within a minute, and then moved up, to the other parts of the building. A fire alarm had gone off; sprinklers did little to stop the fire. So scorching were his flames that most of the water became steam before even touching a single ember of the inferno.  
  
John watched his flames consume three floors of the building before he heard sirens approaching. Struggling, he pulled the flames back, stopping the source of the fire. He returned to himself, once again he appeared to be a normal teenage guy, not the walking torch of only moments before.  
  
He stopped the fire in himself, but the fire in the building still consumed everything in sight.  
  
He saw Jess use her metal whips to impale the gas tank of a car, causing it to explode. He watched as Rush lifted a dump truck from down the street with his mind and slam it into a support pillar of the building, causing a partial collapse.  
  
John felt sick, but he couldn't stop himself.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^^*^*  
  
Eric looked at the metal that had coiled around his forearm. Where had that come from? His senses informed him that it was an adamantium alloy, very similar to Logan's.  
  
He looked back to John, who was writhing in pain on the ground before him. He had a split second to wonder what was happening to him before he felt himself being lifted, and then thrown. He felt the glass shatter around him as he crashed through a window; he felt the hard impact as he landed on the floor of the assembly hall.  
  
He heard the voices of surprise as the Friends of Humanity members turned to see what happened. He heard the screams, he felt the heat, he felt arms lift him and help him out of the building.  
  
Once they had gotten away far enough away from the building, and into the near isolation of a parking garage, Mystique dropped the disguise and stood before him, her scales bristling in agitation.  
  
"Eric, are you alright? Talk to me, what was that back there?!"  
  
Eric sat on the hood of someone's Lexus and rubbed the back of his head, shook off the bits of glass that clung to his suit. "I'm not sure, but that couldn't have been John talking."  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"He told me to get away, he was trying to get me out of harm's way."  
  
"Why is he doing this?"  
  
"I don't know, he's obviously being forced to do these things. He was in pain when I approached him."  
  
"We have to help him, I'll kill the people doing this to him, I'll rip them apart!" Mystique cried in frustration.  
  
"Mystique, please, you have to be calm."  
  
"Calm? How can I be calm when John's out there being forced against us?!"  
  
"It's an implant at the back of his head. I can' remove it without killing him, but I know someone who can," Eric said.  
  
"You don't mean..."  
  
"Yes, that's exactly who I mean. But it won't do us any good if we don't know where to find him. You have to stop this madness; I'm going to get some help." Eric then stood up and made a fist.  
  
The Lexus crumpled like a tin can as he squeezed it with his mind.  
  
"We'll have him back, Mystique, but you must stop them first."  
  
There was no time to waste on meaningful goodbyes or promises of love and family; they were going to save Pyro, it was as simple as that.  
  
He would find the help they needed, and she would, as he put it, 'stop them'.  
  
"Oh, I'll do better than that." 


	6. 6

Five days. It had been five days since the attack on the assembly, and John felt like dying for what he did.  
  
No, what he had been forced to do.  
  
John had used his new ability to create fire and did what he was being forced to do: burn down the building, nevermind if there are any innocent people inside.  
  
He knew the plan. News cameras would arrive and think that he, Jess and Rush were attacking the anti-mutant assembly inside, carelessly taking down the rest of the building and the people inside, with it.  
  
However, that building had housed several pro-mutant network offices. Almost single-handedly, John had taken out a huge percentage of the already miniscule mutant supporters in the country.  
  
Everything went according to plan, from Wraith and Vega's point of view.  
  
John hadn't been counting on seeing Eric, which had been a complete surprise. He also hadn't counted on Jess throwing him into the building right before John was forced to torch it.  
  
Eric was dead. Probably Mystique too.  
  
John had not only killed his only chance of escaping, but his saviors as well. If not for Eric and Mystique, he'd probably be at the bottom of icy Alkali Lake. He wished he was there now, he deserved to be, after killing his family.  
  
"So how does it feel, John, your first kill, I mean." he heard Jess ask from her cell across the hall. "I'm assuming it was your first. Believe it or not, you're the first elemental mutant I've met. And a fire wielder, no less! I can only imagine what they did to you at your evaluation. Did they warp your brain so far that you can't tell the difference between what's alive and what's just more fuel for your fire? If you can still feel anything, don't feel guilt. It wasn't your fault, accidents happen."  
  
He hadn't eaten much or slept at all since that day at the assembly. Jess and Rush had tried to console him as best they could through the glass, but he had completely ignored them.  
  
"Was it an accident when you threw him through the window?!" he yelled back at her, his voice was hoarse from crying and lack of use over the week. "Leave me alone."  
  
"I myself gave up on caring a long time ago," she went on. "If you're smart, then you'll give up too. No point on dwelling over the fact that your precious Magneto's dead."  
  
"I said shut the Hell up!" he yelled, flames erupting from him in anger. "Just shut the Hell up, Jess, you don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"I know you torched the building with him inside. I know that crying over it won't bring him back. And I know that you'd better get a better grip on your power before you hurt someone else. If they think for one second that you could be dangerous to them, you'll be dead."  
  
John looked down at his hands, "I can't even control it anymore..." he moaned, on the verge of tears at Jess's reminder of what he'd done.  
  
"I know how you feel. When I first got these, I had the hardest time directing their movements. But after awhile, you get used to it. Start to have a little fun with them." She muttered darkly as she extended her adamantium tentacles and tapped on the glass wall of the cell.  
  
"You learned how to enjoy all this, didn't you?" he asked as realization and disgust washed over him.  
  
The extension slowly recoiled back into her body. She watched as the adamantium returned home in her inner wrist, and then looked back up at John, an angry flare in her eyes. "Yes. Every person I kill, all I see is Wraith. I love it, and you will too, just give it time."  
  
John glared right back at her. "I'll never be like you. I hate humans, but I'm not a murderer."  
  
Jess smiled at him, making a chill go up his spine. "I said the same thing when I was your age, and newly captured. You know who I said it to?"  
  
John shook his head.  
  
"Yuriko Oyama. You must remember her, Stryker's little helper. You know how the world sees us, John. Wild dogs need to be put to sleep, and Wraith is going to hand the President the syringe. If nothing changes, the word 'mutant' won't even exist in the next fifty years, and not Xavier, not Senator Kelly or even Magneto can save us now. You think this is the only operation? Trust me, you have a lot to learn."  
  
Jess moved back into her cell until John could no longer see her, and he was grateful to be rid of her. Jess could be ok sometimes, but seemed to take some kind of cruel pleasure in reminding him of his helplessness.  
  
She was a part-time bitch.  
  
He laid down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, wishing now more than ever that he wasn't so alone in this horrible place. 


	7. 7

"Eric, are you ready?" Mystique asked.  
  
They were outside, huddled in the dark forest that surrounded the compound. They had contacted each other for the first time in weeks only hours before meeting up again. After seeing first hand what was happening to mutants-to John- Mystique demanded they act now.  
  
Eric would never have argued. He was worried for John, they both were. In his time with them, John had become almost a son, and as such, parental instincts commanded them to protect him.  
  
"Do you even have to ask?" he asked her. She could see him in the dark, smirking but also deadly in his intent to save Pyro.  
  
She smiled, for the first time in weeks. "Never." Mystique leaned forward and kissed him.  
  
"Hey, break it up! If I remember correctly, time is of the essence, right?"  
  
"You're right of course," Eric said as he broke away from Mystique to answer the third party, who was casually leaning against a nearby tree. "You remember the plan?"  
  
"Yeah, kinda hard to forget."  
  
"What about you?" Eric asked, addressing the ever silent fourth.  
  
A small nod was enough for Eric and Mystique. "All right then, let's go."  
  
'Dink, dink, dink.'  
  
"Ughn," John moaned into the pillow. He could hear a tapping on the glass wall of his cell. He figured it was just Jess trying to bother him again. "Quit it."  
  
He looked up and saw two figures standing on the other side of the wall, a man and a young woman. The hall lights were off, so the pair was softly silhouetted, he could not make out any faces.  
  
They were both staring at him, making him feel like a specimen in a glass jar. The man turned to the young woman and nodded once.  
  
All at once, all John felt was searing, burning, ripping pain. "AAGGGGHHH!!!"  
  
The young woman and the man beside her watched expressionlessly as he writhed on the floor, screaming. It was too much, too suddenly, so overwhelming that this time John did pass out, although only momentarily.  
  
The man punched in the code to unlock John's cell door and carefully stepped in, no emotion showing on his face, giving him a very calm, almost inhuman presence.  
  
The young woman was the exact opposite; she came forward and rolled John onto his back. "John? John, John can you hear me?"  
  
He opened his eyes, forcing the blurriness to fade, trying to focus on the girl. "Who are you?" he asked, his mind drifting in and out of coherency.  
  
She held up a hand, forcing it to subtly glow a crimson red so that John could see her face more easily. "It's me, Wanda."  
  
"Wanda?"  
  
She made the light shine brighter, and John saw Eric standing at the doorway to his cell. "Eric?! I thought you were dead!"  
  
Eric made a small smile, "Sorry to disappoint you, but we have to get moving." He said as he pulled John to his feet.  
  
Eric then walked out of the cell, and John looked down to see his implant on the floor, in the center of a small puddle of his own blood. He stomped on it angrily before following Wanda out.  
  
The three were walking down the long corridor of cells, until an alarm rang out through the entire complex. "Oh no, the alarm!" Wanda shouted over the blaring shriek.  
  
"Let's run for it!" John said. He had just reunited with his adopted family; he would die before being forced into the cell again.  
  
They ran past the other cells and into a hallway of offices. "Wanda, in here!"  
  
They all stopped and turned to find the one who had spoken.  
  
"Pietro? What are you doing here? This wasn't part of the plan, you were supposed to be outside with father." Wanda said. Her expression shifted then, from surprise to anger. "If you triggered that alarm because you got tired of waiting, so help me, you'll never run again!" she growled, her eyes sparkling with power.  
  
Pietro rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "Give me a little more credit than that, will you? Father sent me in once the soldiers started firing at us."  
  
John broke into the conversation. "You mean Eric's outside? Then who- Mystique!"  
  
Eric blinked his eyes, blue and white instantly gave way to black and yellow. "At your service, Pyro. I'm so glad you're alright." She said as she hugged him and simultaneously shifted back to her natural shape.  
  
Mystique had never hugged him before, but at a time like this, he couldn't complain.  
  
Pietro frowned, "Have the reunion party later, ok? We've got a group of soldiers heading our way." He said as he pointed to a surveillance screen.  
  
"He's right. Pietro, show us the way you came in," Wanda said.  
  
"Ok, follow me." Pietro darted out of the room, a small gray device in his hands.  
  
"General Wraith. A small unit has intruded and seems to be aiding one of our new task pawns." A soldier said urgently as he entered the control room of the base.  
  
"Yes, I've been watching the little ruse. Quite an interesting plan, I would say; except it lacks something we have that gives us an edge." Wraith didn't seem worried, only mildly amused at the situation.  
  
"What would that be, sir?"  
  
"Oh, nothing much, just friends."  
  
"Here, this way, come on, hurry up!" Pietro called down the hall.  
  
"Not all of us move as fast as you, Quicksilver." Mystique hissed at him. "John's hurt and you're rushing."  
  
Pietro stopped and waited for them to catch up.  
  
"Well, in case you forgot, we do have a crisis on our hands right now. Those soldiers must've seen us with some night vision goggles or body heat sensors or something because out of nowhere, they just opened fire. Father said something was wrong, so he sent me inside to help out." He explained as he fell into a slower step with the group.  
  
"How could I have forgotten? Maybe you should try to remember that I-"  
  
The group turned a corner-only to discover that Pietro's escape route was blocked by armed soldiers and two dozen of the other mutant prisoners, including Jess and Rush in the front.  
  
Mystique stood rigidly, not batting an eyelash or moving a muscle; John was exhausted and in pain, but determined to be free again, no matter how many people-human or mutant- he'd be forced to take out.  
  
"Wanda, think you could get rid of all their control chips too?" Pietro asked quietly.  
  
"Not without killing them all, no." she whispered back, her voice shaking just the slightest bit.  
  
"Sorry, John, you know it's not us hurting you." Rush said sadly.  
  
John nodded, "I know. That's why I'm sorry too."  
  
Without warning, John thrust out his hands, releasing a blow torch of flame- cutting a fiery part in the small sea of mutants blocking their way to freedom. "Come on, come on! Run!" Mystique yelled.  
  
"Don't have to tell me twice," Pietro quipped as he rushed forward.  
  
Wanda, John and Mystique followed him outside as the mutants and soldiers beat at the flames that had caught them.  
  
Eric had had an easy time holding off the soldiers who had spotted him and Pietro. They were using metal weapons, for God's sake. The idiocy made him smile as he held them captive with their own guns.  
  
He heard a pained chorus of screams from inside, and desperately hoped that Mystique's, John's and the twins' voices weren't included. Rather, he hoped that they were the cause.  
  
He saw a bright flash of orange light inside, and not a second later, the door flew open. Pietro was the first out, naturally.  
  
John and Mystique were next, while Wanda took to the air.  
  
"Hey, since when can you fly?" John called up to her as he and Mystique ran back to Eric below.  
  
She looked down and smiled. "A lot can happen in a few months, Pyro, as you already know."  
  
John rolled his eyes and ran to join Mystique, Eric and Pietro. They were all bent down inspecting something.  
  
"Hey, what's that?" he asked once he caught up.  
  
"It's the implant control. I might be able to free them." Eric said hurriedly as he turned the tiny machine over and touched it.  
  
"Well you might want to get on that, because they're all heading this way." Pietro warned, gesturing to the compound. Several groups of mutants and soldiers were slowly heading toward them.  
  
"Of course son. Wanda, if you would be so kind?" he called up to her.  
  
"Everybody, stand back." She warned once she landed.  
  
Pietro, John and Mystique backed away several steps and watched as Eric and Wanda gripped each other's hand and also gripped the implant control, forming a sort of triangle. John looked over his shoulder and felt fear grip him as the soldiers and mutants charged forward.  
  
Pietro and Mystique's hair was standing on end, and he assumed that his was as well. Eric and Wanda were creating a massive electrical charge; John understood what they were preparing to do.  
  
All at once, every mutant dropped and screamed-clawing at their heads. John watched, both sympathetic and happy. He knew firsthand how much it hurt, but the reward was freedom-something he'd never take for granted again.  
  
Eric and Wanda broke their circle and Eric destroyed the implant control, crushing it with his power.  
  
"You did it, they're free!" Pietro cried happily.  
  
"Yes, we-"Eric began, but stopped himself once he heard a gunshot.  
  
"The soldiers know what we've done! They're opening fire on our mutant brothers!" Pietro shouted, jumping to the conclusion five times faster than anyone else in the tiny group.  
  
Not waiting for Eric's command, Pietro rushed forward and attacked the first soldier he saw- a private who hadn't even had the time to draw his weapon.  
  
Wanda was never far behind her brother, and she once again rose off the ground; rather than dirty her hands with fist fighting like Quicksilver, she blasted a group of soldiers with her power.  
  
Mystique, Eric and John entered the fray not two seconds after the twins. However, while Eric and Mystique were in it to protect the other mutants and each other, John had a better idea.  
  
"What the hell just happened?!" Wraith demanded.  
  
"I'm not sure, sir. Some kind of electric current has just broken our hold on the mutants!"  
  
Wraith turned around, "You mean to tell me those things are roaming around free on my compound?!"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"What the hell are you going to do about it?! You're our leading technologist, fix it!"  
  
"I can't! The damage has been done to the chips themselves, I can't do anything about it, all any of us can do now is pray."  
  
"Oh?" Wraith pulled out his pistol and shot his fellow soldier three times in the chest. "I'll trust this instead."  
  
John stumbled into the base-the last place he wanted to be, but he had his reasons. He knew that just like any other rat that abandoned the ship, Wraith would be looking for a way to escape right about now, and John was going to stop him.  
  
No, not just stop.  
  
He planned on nothing short of roasting him alive. Wraith had stolen him from home, made him a murderer. Well, now Wraith would get a small sampling of the fruit he'd sown.  
  
John headed straight for the control office, he knew that's where the big bosses of this place stayed the most, and Wraith was the biggest. The office was locked, of course, so John completely melted the knob without a second thought. Kicking the door open, he strutted inside, ready to do some damage.  
  
A soldier was bleeding on the floor-not dead yet-but he wasn't who John wanted. The side door was open, so he headed toward it, closing in on his kill like a hawk.  
  
"Damn freaks, this isn't the end of it, I'll get a new base soon, have Magneto in the first cell..." Wraith muttered to himself as he quickly walked to the small launch pad where he kept his private helicopter.  
  
"See how proud they are when I have him-agh!" Wraith jumped back just in time to evade the flames that suddenly erupted from the ground before him.  
  
The flames rose high into the air and began to swirl around him-a fiery tornado, he realized, and remembered where he'd seen the trick before.  
  
Wraith turned around, not at all surprised to find John standing behind him. He actually smiled at him.  
  
"A little overdramatic, isn't it?" He asked, gesturing to the swirling flames that surrounded them both.  
  
"It fits the occasion," John snapped.  
  
"Oh, yes, kill me with what I created, how very ironic."  
  
"You made me kill people-"  
  
"No I didn't. You already killed one of my soldiers, using this same little eye trick. Ramirez was a good soldier, and you killed him. I didn't make you a killer, you were born one. I only put you to use."  
  
John felt his blood boil, searing his body as it coursed through his veins. Wraith thought mutants were born killers? He thought John could be useful?  
  
Flames plumed around John, and he concentrated all of his energy on forcing the fire to attack Wraith-boil him, burn him, sear him until there was nothing left.  
  
"I may not have been the first one you've done this to, but I will be the last-oof!" John grunted as he fell to the ground.  
  
John rolled over, shocked to find metal cords wrapped around his ankles. His eyes followed the cords until he found the wrists they had been implanted in.  
  
Jess stood over him, "Sorry John, but no kid is going to steal this from me. Go on back to your family now."  
  
"No, I'm gonna roast that son of a-"  
  
"Just go, alright? I'll make sure he dies, but I'm doing it alone." Jess hissed at him as her metal tentacles released his legs.  
  
John quickly stood up and they faced Wraith, who was still smirking at their shared fury.  
  
"You mutants may have some interesting talents, but you're still as dumb as the next guy." He said as he whipped out his gun.  
  
Flames sprouted from John's body, and began to stretch toward Wraith, but he was too slow.  
  
Jess whipped Wraith's gun to the side just as the laser sight rested over John's heart. The gun went off, and Jess used her right tentacle to punch a hole through Wraith's chest.  
  
The metal extensions returned back to her arms, and Jess stared at Wraith's lifeless body for a moment. She watched as blood pooled from his massive wound, the spark of her tormentor finally snuffed out.  
  
She was happy and disappointed at the same time. In her mind she had always envisioned a massive showdown between Wraith and herself, a cataclysmic battle between good and evil. Sometimes she was the victor, sometimes not.  
  
Either way, she was a bit disappointed to know that the 'epic battle' of her daydreams was summed up in less than a second with nearly no effort put forth on her part.  
  
All in all, she had to say it was somewhat anticlimactic.  
  
Jess shrugged and turned to find John on the ground. "John, what are you doing?"  
  
He didn't move. "John? John, come on, get up."  
  
She moved closer, and rolled him onto his back. His shirt was stained with blood.  
  
The small battle between the mutants and the soldiers was in truth no contest. For every armed soldier, there were about five mutants whose powers had been upgraded.  
  
Within minutes, the soldiers were either dead or had wisely chosen to run off.  
  
"Well, that was quick," said Pietro.  
  
Mystique smiled. "Yes, thankfully."  
  
"Where's Pyro?" Eric asked. "I haven't seen him since this ordeal began."  
  
"Help! Help!"  
  
Eric, Mystique and the twins turned to find a young woman screaming and running towards them.  
  
"It's John's hurt, you have to help him!" she cried.  
  
"Where is he?" Wanda demanded.  
  
"He's behind the base, beside the helicopter holding area..."  
  
Wanda rose into the air again and headed towards the back of the compound, while Pietro ran his fastest to find John.  
  
John lay bleeding on the ground, a few feet away from the lifeless body of a man he knew only as Wraith-the man behind the conspiracy to make mutants appear as dangerous and uncontrollable as possible to the media in the hopes that it will inspire fear and loathing for them on a national level.  
  
Wraith may have succeeded on several counts, John included.  
  
He felt his shirt-warm and wet with his own blood-being lifted. He heard voices and he felt himself being moved, but he couldn't wake up.  
  
Had John been awake, he would've known that he was on the Blackbird, a jet owned by the X-men-and that his formers friends Bobby and Rogue were keeping a close watch over him, as were Eric, Mystique and the twins.  
  
"What's up with his hair?" asked Bobby as he touched John's bright gold streaks.  
  
Rogue frowned at Eric. "Is changing your hostage's hair your trademark or something?" she asked coolly, meaning the stark white stripe she had received when Eric had, in fact, taken her.  
  
Eric rolled his eyes, "Don't look at me, I didn't do that. And he's not my hostage; he came to us by choice if memory serves."  
  
Storm-who was piloting the jet-sped up, hoping to get home faster before there was some kind of incident between the opposing groups.  
  
Slowly, John felt the strength come back to him. He opened his eyes and he found himself back in his old room at the Xavier school.  
  
Frowning, John looked around and tried to sit up.  
  
"Oh, dammit!" he growled as the stitches in his shoulders stretched.  
  
He put a hand over the wound and tried to sit up more slowly. John didn't remember much about the night before, but assumed that Wraith was dead- otherwise he would've killed John. Which only left the question of how he came to be back in his old room.  
  
Someone knocked on the door. "Come in," John answered.  
  
Eric came in and shut the door behind him. "How're you feeling?"  
  
"Kinda like I just got shot through the shoulder after having my neck ripped open." He answered flatly.  
  
Eric raised his eyebrows, "Glad to see your sarcasm wasn't as drastically changed as your hair." He said with a smirk.  
  
John glanced at himself in the mirror, where his gold streaks stood out from the rest of his dark brown hair. "What happened?"  
  
"Well, plenty. The mutants who were being held captive are now free; the soldiers who had held them are now dead. Quite simple, really."  
  
"No it isn't." John said quietly.  
  
Eric looked at John for a moment, and understood the feelings that must be welling up inside him.  
  
"I understand what it was like, John, being manipulated like that. I can understand it better than most."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"Not now, no."  
  
"Alright. But whenever you're ready, my door is always open."  
  
Eric smiled reassuringly and then made to leave. "Freedom is a precious thing John, make the most of yours."  
  
John nodded as Eric left, and he laid back down on his old bed, savoring the feeling of freedom-something he vowed never to lose again.  
  
The End 


End file.
